The Parent Trap
by ExtremeWriter
Summary: Aside from potentially getting closer to Finn, could Kurt have possibly had another motive behind setting up his father with Carole?


Tonight's the night.

I've planned this for weeks, and finally, it's here. Parent-Teacher Conference night at my school has finally come around, and of course, I've got a little surprise for Dad when he gets there. Of course I'll still be there to watch what he eats (ugh, his non-organic eating habits thoroughly disgust me), but let's face it—Carol Hudson will obviously be there, and I just know they're perfect for each other. They both share the same odd interests, like…antique picture frames, and those Russian nesting doll things. I don't see why, but to each his own.

"Kurt! You ready to go or what?" Dad calls from upstairs. I rush up, my heart racing with anticipation.

"Ready Dad," I say, grinning.

The car ride to school is silent, but I do take the time to study my father's outfit critically. Normally I don't understand my dad's sense of fashion, but tonight, I decided that his fur jacket, plaid shirt, and practically signature baseball cap would work well enough. We reach school, and I eagerly pull him inside and discreetly look around for Ms. Hudson.

Dad takes a cookie, but I stop him. "Dad! How could you eat that? Look at it!"

Dad sighs tiredly. "How do you _know_ it's not organic?" he asks, knowing full well why I'm complaining.

"Because you can see the logo," I snap. "It's encrusted in the cookie."

Of course, none other than the mother of my love walks into the room at that moment. I perk up; now's my chance! I turn my Dad around and get him to stand right in front of her.

"Dad, meet Carole Hudson! Ms. Hudson, my father, Burt Hummel! You both have dead spouses; maybe you should talk!"

I realize a moment later that that's probably a corny thing to say, but nonetheless, they totally hit it off, talking about…acid wash, or whatever.

I smirk. This is going to work out perfectly! Before either of them knows it, they're going to completely fall for each other. If you ask me, they'll probably move in together, knowing them! That would be a dream come true for me. I would get to live with Finn, maybe even be his roommate! I know he'll be excited about that. I mean, I get Finn, I really do. I know he's hurting since he found out Quinn was telling him, like, the biggest lie in history. You can tell by the way he looks at her during Glee rehearsals that it's still killing him inside. He probably needs someone to talk to right now, and it may take him a while, but soon enough he'll realize that I'm the one who can help him get through it! I just know we're going to get closer if, no, once he moves in with Dad and me.

I continue to gaze at Dad and Ms. Hudson as they talk. They really do look like they're having a good time. Suddenly, Dad touches Carol's sleeve, and although I can't hear, I think he comments on how soft it is. Absent-mindedly, I wonder if Carol uses the same detergent my mom used to use. Oh, how I loved my mom's detergent. She used to use it on all my clothes, and I always felt like she was there when I wore freshly washed clothes.

I remember first grade, how I was scared about being away from my parents for six whole hours, especially since Puck was out to get me even when we were little. Wearing Mom's soft clothes always made me feel better. Dad stopped using that brand after she died, though. That disappointed me, but every time it's my turn to do the laundry, I still secretly use it; I keep a bottle hidden in the back of the laundry room cabinet. I've been doing that for three years, and Dad has never noticed. He's never said anything, anyway.

I pick up a cookie from the refreshments table (this time inspecting it to ensure that it was, indeed, organic) and bit into it. It was very sweet, and again I started thinking of my mother.

My mother actually loved to bake. Yeah, I know, it sounds cheesy—she bakes, she does laundry, she's the dream mother, blah, blah, blah. But seriously, she was really good at it. At least once a week, we'd have one of her delicious creations for dessert, or sometimes we'd have her muffins with breakfast. But not even her muffins were as good as her chocolate chip cookies. They were heaven on Earth; when I was eight I claimed that I could eat nothing but her baked goods for the rest of my life—which I may have succeeded in doing if she hadn't given me a long lecture about how that wasn't healthy. It was horribly annoying at the time, naturally, but it was also one of the last times I ever heard her voice. I still replay it in my head sometimes.

My mom was perfect. I hope Carol can be, too, but let's face it, she probably won't. She'll probably suck in comparison to what I used to have, but whatever. She's still a mom, and having her around would be kind of nice.

Oh, who am I kidding? I don't really care if I have a mom or not. All I need is Finn to be happy, and that's what this plot is going to get me.

Finn.


End file.
